The Inept Gardener
Chronicles from someone who gardens sporadically and expects flowers anyway.
Part 2
In which a tomato plant is carefully nurtured, diligently watered, and ultimately harvested by a possum living in the roof of The Willows
I had great plans for this year’s tomato crop, I really did. By this stage of the season, I thought I would be reflecting on a bumper harvest. Instead, if possums are capable of reflection, the one living in our roof will be reminiscing fondly about the tomatoes it enjoyed as the summer progressed. It didn’t even have the decency to wait until they were sun-ripened and bursting with flavour. This greedy marsupial ate them in the middle of the night, while they were green, hard, and hopefully, bitter.
Being thwarted by the possum coupled with the emotions of the change in the family dynamic, meant I did not much feel like getting out into the garden at all, and the fact that anything survived the Adelaide summer means it has earned its place at The Willows. But now, with the changing seasons, I am beginning to feel more like myself again, and I know that I will regret not planting some bulbs now to enjoy in spring.
As bulbs are usually planted in autumn, magic happens in dark soil during the coldest weather. Just when we begin to weary of the cold, grey days and colder nights, green shoots burst from the ground, declaring that better, warmer, more colourful days are ahead of us. Isn’t this like life in general? We have all been through our winter seasons, when hope wanes and even seems fruitless, but given time the magic is happening unseen, ready to push itself back into the world. The garden of our lives might be a little different than what we imagined, but it can still bloom with colour and scent.
My plan this weekend is to sit down with a cup of coffee close to hand and spend a delightful hour selecting the bulbs on which I am placing so many hopes. It is not in a plant’s nature to disappoint, and I can only hope that I do not disappoint the plant either.
“Possum status: Still at large, and apparently unrepentant.”
